


Monopoly with me.

by Reiven2017



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League vs. Teen Titans (2016), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Defender - Freeform, F/M, First Love, Huge palace, Intrigue, Love/Hate, Marriage of Convenience, Middle Ages, Raven's pride, There is cruelty, Thriving empire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24734443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiven2017/pseuds/Reiven2017
Summary: He is Damian al-Ghul.  Lord Damian Al Ghul.  A famous heir, bathed in luxury from the first hours of his life.  An excellent warrior, brought up according to the tradition of his family.  A brilliant strategist and Lord, one of the most powerful empires - Gul.  She, a street thief, having no noble birth or home.  A girl who knew the "charms" of an orphan life early.  Owning not a simple appearance, not an ordinary mind and a strange name, Raven.  She was in the Ghul at the wrong place and at the wrong time.  And cruelly regretted.
Relationships: Raven & Damian Wayne, Raven/Damian Wayne
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	1. 1...

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! My first work on that website. I have the text you have comments. Let's get it worked together?

Damian, propped his head on his hand, idly staring around the room. In the floors of his emerald mantle a man was cast like a dog. The young soldier, convicted of desertion, was lying at his feet, moaning softly from the throbbing pain. He was brutally beaten and regularly tortured for several days. His face was not visible, due to a layer of something sticky and disgustingly dirty. Blood mixed with tears and with the mud of prison sub-winters, forever remaining on it. The man shuddered, a long wave of fear passed through his body.  
\- Tonight, you will be hanged in the main square. Are you glad about this? - The young Lord scratched his chin and smiled caustically, looked at the guy. His eyes gleamed ominously in the floor of the lighted room and darkened in several shades. He was amused by this situation. Look into the eyes of a soldier and see not a fake fear. What could be better for a killer? He could feel the soldier trembling from head to toe. How he wheezes, coughing up blood, wincing painfully. One of the guards kicked him, trying to stir up.  
“Answer cattle when the Lord speaks to you.” - all that the poor fellow had enough strength for, so mumble something in response. “You should be grateful to me, miserable deserter.” I will give you easy death, although I could leave you still in the dungeons. - Damian continued to smile only at the edge of his lips. He held his gaze at one of the guards and nodded briefly, giving a sign to lead the prisoner away. Al Gul leaned back on the velvet upholstery of the throne. A smile gushed from his face and he snorted in exasperation. An old, short, black-robed adviser appeared beside him, bowing at his feet.  
“Lord al-Ghul, I do not dare to argue with you, but I dare to note that such a low deed as desertion should be punished in all severity.” His voice glistened with sugary sweet acid, when he did not look up at the young Lord, as if corrected him, but as if hinted superficially.  
“But you do it, Abduzzuhir.” And not the first time. - His voice thundered in a quiet menacing rumble striking against the marble walls of the castle and Damian literally felt with his skin as the old man bristled. He was strong to make him embarrassed and speechless. He was hunched over, and then pressed his head into his shoulders under the gaze of the man. The adviser bowed again, now lower than last time, trying not to meet his eyes with the Lord, shamedly scoffed and retired as quickly as possible.

The man seated on the throne frowned. Damian was annoyed by this old man and he knew it very well. Sand should already be strewn from him from old age, and he is still in the Order of al-Ghul. Abduzzahir climbed into his affairs more than once, inserting his word when he had to dutifully shut up his decrepit mouth and silently wait for his death. He was too old for government affairs, the names of a quarrelsome nature and black rat eyes. He was not kicked out of the palace only by personal order of Ras al-Ghul. Damian caught himself thinking that he would not mind seeing him on the gallows. The adviser was one of the oldest in the Order, even at that time when the Ras sat on the throne and it could not be so easy to let the dogs feed. But now he has become Lord, so why not give him a little prank. Especially his grandfather is no longer scary. Damian rose from the throne, instinctively placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. He went to the door, following along the castle corridor, when, out of habit, he was followed by security. Today will be an interesting day.

************

Raven pulled her hood tightly, hiding her face in the darkness of the fabric and slipping through the main gate of the city. The girl briskly separated from the hype just overwhelming the city, stopping in a small deserted alley between 2 houses. No one even noticed her shadow. The raven looked around cautiously, not finding more than one soul nearby and making sure that no one saw her, pulled off her hood. Her hair gathered in a low tail fell on her shoulders. She clicked in annoyance. The girl pulled the mask fabric down to her nose and sighed. She wearily leaned back against the wall of the house and exhaled frantically. She did not sleep 48 hours or more, getting to the capital of Gula. Now her knees were trembling with fatigue, and there was something incomprehensible in her stomach, it seemed like a couple of moments and she would be ripped out onto the just washed curtains on the clothesline.

Raven swallowed dryly and covered her face again. In the city there were puffs of dust from caravans, and people rushed about there and there, managing to spill familiar words and even whole monologues. From the center, there was a subtle smell of spices and nuts. The soldiers of Lord Al Ghul roamed the streets, stripping the beggars. Not very beneficial for her position. She felt her slowly but surely beginning to sleep. She needs to quickly find a shack for herself. Nadoyev breathe the old road dust, the girl raised her head. There was not a cloud in the sky and the weather was warm, the sun was too hot for this place, so why lose such an opportunity and not spend the night on the roof of a house? She glanced at the neighboring building. The house was not high, you can climb. The raven looked back, pushed herself against the wall, and caught her hand on the railing of the balcony. She sucked in air with force through her nostrils, feeling how her hands began trembling treacherously from fatigue. The girl made inhuman efforts, pulling herself up. Raven literally fell on the flat roof of the house. She was breathing heavily when she got up and continued on her way. It is too noticeable, she definitely does not need extra eyes.

************

Twilight traveled too quickly over the city when the first gong sounded from the side of the royal family palace. Two more blows, and the prisoner will be taken out to the square, to a general observationally, having made a trial over him. The raven settled itself comfortably on the spire of the tower, catching on. From here an excellent view of the main square was opened where people had already gathered. In her mind, the 2 ringing of the gong echoed hollowly and it was like a crowd of mothballs with even greater force. The execution was in her hand. No, she sincerely sympathized with the poor fellow. But when you literally have a tear in your stomach from a heart-rending cry of hunger, you can’t argue, no matter how the raven chose this place. The capital of Gula was famous for its huge wallets. Here you can make good money to a thief. For example, such as herself. Yes, there are many big risks to get caught. Although the girl had not yet encountered the soldiers, she wondered about them at every tormented poor fellow who was mocked either by them or their Lord. In imreria rumble reigned strictest discipline. No wonder the Buzz is considered one of the strongest imeres of the outside world. But she needs a whole couple of fruits and all. For this they do not execute.


	2. Chapter 2

The raven stretched, dispersing blood in the joints. Her neck moaned plaintively and made a sound similar to a wound spring when the girl looked too sharply to the side. In the distance, half the sun was shining, and there was an azure sky above her head and Raven realized that it was morning. She cringed when the cold air seemed to pass through her. The weather in the mountains was ... unstable. And what did she have a day for today? I’d better not say anything. The girl frowned when she heard a short scream, and then the rough male voices. Reason clearly echoed in her head. “This is something that definitely doesn't concern you. Go on your joyful dear Raven. ” But Raven ignored the voice and came closer to the edge of the roof. Two black men's backs caught her eye and something light, sandwiched and hunched over peeped out from behind them. Climbing closer, Raven realized that it was a girl. Tears flowed down her cheek, and her mouth opened and closed in a silent cry. Her half-tattered dress hung miserably in shreds from her shoulder. Raven frowned even more, and her eyes darkened. She quickly felt the handle of the dagger, on her belt, and ready to rush at them, she froze. One of the men moved away from the victim and the Royal Guard badge flashed on his chest. Damn it. Rachel hesitated, considering how likely the chances were that she would be next to the poor thing. Going to men was not a good idea anyway. They excelled in strength. And go to the soldiers of al-Ghul ... you know, imagine a huge herd of bulls that scoot at you. Presented? Great, now imagine that these bulls have sharp swords on their horns. Well, how great are the chances of dying. The girl cried out again and this was a signal for Raven. She shoved the entire internal dialogue away, focusing on not catching the Lyuli. Raven jumping, knocked down one of them, landing on him, when the other already pulled out a sword. The girl jumped from the man and threw up the blade. She took a fighting stance, I do not know what next. “Shine, Rachel. Congratulations, you’ll be buried with a sign {Dumb idiot deciding to act as hero} "The guy maliciously grinned and growled some curse in ancient Arabic in her direction. It is so good that she did not know this language. Second, his colleague pulled out his sword and threw away his It’s much more interesting, of course. The victim slid down the wall, reveling in sobs. It was the Raven who needed to sob now, and her. The man whom she knocked down jumped to his feet and did not even try to get his weapon. He grinned caustically and shook his head.  
“To save another and expose yourself to a blow, how stupid it is.” Can't you find a puppy? - Yes! The raven barely suppressed the answer before he managed to slip from her lips. She knew perfectly well that this was stupid. Raven, you didn’t even let this blade into action when you didn’t! What will they be from this bullshit? You do not know how to fight. You do not know how to fight. You don't know how to fight, you fool! Sweat ran down her back, and adrenaline rose in her blood. Her skin burned under a mask and Raven was grateful that at least he had put on a hood. The two began to slowly approach, and the girl was moving away, and only now Raven realized that they were in the fucking dumb street. There was one solid wall behind and the girl who was attacked fell apart across. Fainted from fright. This is definitely not what she needs. Rachel began to randomly run her gaze through the space, which was rapidly decreasing as the two approached like hunters following a small mouse. And here, as a salvation, Raven saw from the side, a shovel. Old, rusty. She could swear that she literally glowed with snow-white lights. She rushed in that direction, at that moment when one of the soldiers had already managed to attack her. He stumbled. Geese saved Rome, why not a spade to save her? Raven hit him on the head in a huge sweep. The man went limp and staggered. He crashed to the ground, clutching his head. The other, without wasting time, threw a shurekin, just like a girl in her forearm. The raven grimaced, her face contorted in pain as the steel cut through her skin, digging sharp spikes into her hand. She wanted to cry, but the instincts of self-preservation did not let her lose her mind. In front of her stood another soldier, much more than the one whom she hranulo a shovel. He rushed to her, throwing the spatula to the side and grabbed Raven by the throat. The girl cluttered, trying with all her might to tear this rotten hand away from herself. The man grinned and began to compress his fingers harder. E  
\- Well, you son of a bitch, let me even look in your face before death. - No. Just not that. Raven still had a little hope for life, and if they see her face, the hunt will begin. These soldiers will definitely want revenge. She had already imagined how she would be allowed to go around, a chill went all over her body, and Raven clung even harder, trying to kick the attacker. At least somewhere. So the girl woke up and, seeing what was happening, picked up with trembling hands lifted the cobblestone from the ground and began to slowly approach, swaying. Yes, you are faster! The soldiers turned out to be quicker and in one sharp jerk, tore off her hood and ... froze. He was stared at by beautiful amethyst eyes framed by a layer of fluffy eyelashes. He blinked with wide eyes, not believing that a girl had attacked them. But they did not give him time to think. Due to shock, his grip loosened and Raven forcefully pushed him with both legs away. He fell, falling on his back, when he did not have time to move away, he received a stone. The raven fell to her knees, exhausted, hoarsely swallowing the air. Her hands darted to her throat, and then to her forearm and gently felt the flesh. The wound seemed to throb and burn. Streams of blood were already streaming down his arm and Raven winced. She sucked in air through clenched teeth and jerked out a shureken. Fucking fucking shit. More blood spattered. She tore a piece from her sleeve and bandaged the wound. Raven cast a short glance at the two carcasses, burning with the urge to stick this shurekin to them in one dry, hard-to-reach revenge. Raven stared at the girl. She did not blink at the soldier whom she had hit with a stone. Light blonde. The raven moaned and rose to its feet, brushing off dust. Only now a girl looked at her.  
\- Thank. She whispered softly, with her lips. Ha. Rachel grinned. It was she who just saved her.  
\- What is your name? - asked the Raven, again pulling his hood and looking around in search of eyes that could become random witnesses.  
\- Adila.  
\- So, Adila, let's agree that you will erase my face from memory and forget this hour. Do you get it? - Raven looked at her. The tone of her voice sounded calm, but there was clearly a threat in him. The girl nodded obediently. - Good.  
Raven again carefully looked into her face and made sure that she had truncated the whole scale of the problems that she could provide, she turned around and took a step from this street. She pulled on her hood harder. These fuckers won't forgive this. This place does not tolerate this and literally all the bones in her body insisted that this was not the end. Hmm, she imagined her start to the day clearly wrong.

\- - Mother is my woman! - exclaimed the old man, stepping out from behind the bar and threw up his hands to the sky. His wide-open eyes ran excitedly over the familiar figure into the hood, and his lips extended into a smile. The raven grimaced at the disgusting smell of alcohol floating in the air. And how does Gassan endure it?  
“Raven, isn't that you?” Oh my god! The thin old man cried noisily, hastily wiping his hands on the apron. Bright paint poured on his face, leaving no trace of that tired person and it seemed that even the ancient wrinkles on his forehead were smoothed out. He cast a short look at the crowd of onlookers gathered at the tables, which were now carefully studying what was happening, drinking directly from the bottles of arak. The man nodded toward the stairs leading to the second floor and the girl followed him without asking questions. Only when her bony shadow darted into the room, securely hidden from prying eyes, did the girl pull off her hood. Before he could recover, the man was captured by her hands, covered with the skin of an animal, when she hugged him tightly. The girl made a sound reminiscent of a contented cat and laid her head on the old man's shoulder. The man hugged her back.  
\- Hi Gassan. Raven whispered softly, not unclenching her arms. Her heart was beating happily in her chest, content with the moment.  
\- Hello, my angel. - in her manner answered the man. He took the girl by the shoulders, gently moving away and looked around. “How prettier and grown you are, Raven.” Straight beauty indescribable. And your pallor remained with you. Amazing - He thoughtfully stared at her face, and then, as if it dawned on him, he reached out and uttered dumbfounded. - - My angel, how did you end up here? - the girl giggled, relishing the expression of complete misunderstanding of the situation. She smiled conspiratorially and deliberately slowly explained:  
\- How, how, arrived three days ago. From caravan to caravan and to Ghula. Her voice sparkled merrily and shimmered with carelessness, as if that was what the whole world had been dedicated to.  
\- Three days?! But how so! Holy Manat, - the man looked up, turning to the gods and squinting at the girl. “Why did you order that this masterful girl come to me just now?” Oh, I will die of a broken heart. - He theatrically put his hand on his chest and exhaled sadly. Raven burst into fervent laughter as a child who had just seen the best performance in life.  
“No, well, look at her.” I am seriously unhappy that you decided to visit your old friend so late, my angel.  
\- There were things. What can you do? - She spread her arms and grunted easily.  
\- Oh, how busy everyone is. Gassan clicked in displeasure and shook his head.  
\- Come on. How are you?  
\- Good, my angel, good.  
\- I heard Zakir also in the city. Do not know where to find it? - the man froze for a moment, his face did not express anything and Raven held her breath. For several minutes there was a deadly silence, and the air cooled. His eyebrows stiffly converged on the nose, forming a deep wrinkle on his forehead. Gassan's voice became extremely serious when, after a pause, he answered:  
“You should take hold of the mind, my angel.” The raven looked at him embarrassedly and arched a questioning eyebrow in an arc. AND? He says that she is that. Fool?  
\- What?  
\- - You would throw this business, ignoble, Raven. The old man muttered grimly, looking off to the side, clenching his teeth and exhaling heavily. He seemed upset. The girl cheerfully waved him off.  
\- What are you doing? Yes, everything will be fine with me. - She tried to make her voice more relaxed when Gassan again clicked disapprovingly. He exhaled heavily, as if resigned to something.  
\- Good. I am before him, my angel. And now, I need to go to work.  
“I'll come again tomorrow.”

He woke up on the street when the moon had already risen in the sky. His head hurt and throbbed. The man lifted himself up on his elbows, moaning softly. Next to him was his partner. Vidocq was no better.  
\- Woke up? - he asked. But the man did not hear him. A thousand and one ideas were carried in his head, rampant revenge. Pictures of that drunken face surfaced. Such a city will not be difficult to find. And when he got to her, God forbid her, heaven had not seen such a thing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My attempt to make it better...

He fell. He fell again and again with a heart-rending scream rising from the very center of his chest. Damian was horrified, and his voice, broken and frenzied, seemed unfamiliar to him as it echoed in the darkness of an unknown space. He fell again, tripping over a blackening void. His legs were trembling from the weight of his own weight, and Damian didn't know how much longer he could stay upright. Each fall was more painful than the previous one. But he got up and went on, fighting as he had been taught. Blood flowed from every part of his body, searing his skin with a dark, poisonous flame, and Damian felt every cell in his body struggling with the last of its strength before dying, going into the void. His eyes spasmodically and wildly began to dart around the space, once again bumping into...nothing. The black fog was slowly closing in on him from all sides, driving him into the hunting circle. Anger and rage coursed through his veins, tangling in one hellish mess. Damian spat and snarled and fought back with the last of his strength, swinging and striking, but his fist was disappearing into the ominous fog, and he had no more strength for anything. He went limp and shuddered slightly as the chains bound his limbs. Damian dropped to his knees with a deep groan, his head bowed in exhaustion. But then, he strained his ears and heard soft footsteps approaching steadily and smoothly. He lifted his head and shock froze on his emaciated face. The lavender-white light softly framed the girl's body. Her purple hair was flowing smoothly down and Damian could have sworn that it was the most beautiful shade he'd ever seen. Her face was half hidden by the mist, as was most of her body, but those eyes...those soft violet eyes looked at him with such heartfelt kindness that it seemed to light up the entire room. She smiled sweetly at him and glided toward him. The fog around her had not lifted. It kept tumbling and shimmering with every step she took. The man couldn't take his eyes off her and watched the angel in fascination. The corners of her mouth twitched slightly as her gaze fell on the black, rusty, and dirty chains that bound Damian, but she hid it behind an even more caressing smile. The white mist that emanated from the girl swallowed the chains and they turned to ash. She reached out and gently stroked his hair. Damian swallowed the lump in his throat and let out a weak breath. A soft warmth radiated from her hand, enveloping him in its embrace and calming all his strained nerves. The pain receded. He closed his eyes blissfully, letting his head sink into her lap. The girl giggled and Damian did his best to absorb the magic sound of her voice.  
"It's all right.

Damian jerked and opened his eyes abruptly, waking from a dream. It took him only a quick glance and a few minutes to realize that there was no one else in the room. He blinked and paused at the open balcony door through which the faint sunlight filtered. < i>Your mother. The man threw himself back against the bed, growling through clenched teeth. _What the hell is going on in his head?!_ His brows drew together in a frown, and a deep frown creased his brow as he thought. It couldn't be a coincidence. This simai dream had been happening to him for a long time and with enviable frequency. Damian didn't believe in prophecies or shit like that. He was used to relying on facts and logic, but it completely defied any common sense, and it was annoying. But he couldn't deny that it was at least _strange_. This girl was also extremely unusual, but none of his acquaintances even remotely resembled her. The corners of Demian's mouth twitched, in a contradictory war, whether to rise or fall. She was beautiful. He could not imagine a more beautiful creature than she, the girl from his dreams. He remembered every smooth curve of her body, wanting to touch her, to feel the velvety whiteness of her skin beneath his fingertips, not hidden by the mist from his eyes. To draw the line of her full, rosy lips, to see them smile at him again, so pure and inviting. Run her purple hair through her fingers. Feel her in his arms. Feel it. A thin light of something pleasant rose inside Damian, burning in his heart. He closed his eyes blissfully. For the first time in his life, he felt so good, even just thinking about her. Damian felt every nerve in his body relax and melt. It melted itself into a puddle. He was pretty sure they didn't know each other. And he was certain that it might not even exist. So beautiful and tender was she to this wretched world. His thoughts were filled with her and only her. He's a fucking al Ghul. Grandson of the Demon head. He's a fucking Lord, and he shouldn't be so relaxed. He shouldn't be lying in bed just thinking about a girl. Damian snorted in exasperation. He jumped out of bed and rushed to the dresser, fussily dressed in the first sweatpants and shirt he found. A loud knock on the door made him pause for a moment before he snapped his sword on his belt and his face assumed a neutral expression, while all annoyance at both himself and the situation receded behind a stone mask.  
— Enter. — no, " he said curtly, glancing around the room, searching for the missing piece of armor. The doors opened with a soft creak and a man in armor entered the room with a steady and confident step. He bowed respectfully, never taking his gaze from Demian.  
— My Lord, I beg the elders to convene a Council. They are concerned about the situation in the North. his voice was monotonous and expressionless, still regarding him. Demian grabbed a piece of armor from the nightstand, made of tough leather, and a pair of Bracers. Cairo closely followed his movements and Demian fought with those that would irritably not snarl at him.  
"Call off the Council, Cairo, and tell them I'll be busy." "Demian needed to get some air. And of course, humanity has not come up with anything better than-training. Very long and good training.

Rachel couldn't remember ever seeing a house as rich and luxurious as this one. It towered majestically in the middle of the street, teasing the poor with its luxury. Beautiful, snow-white Palace, if not with gold, then gilded domes. With crystal-clear pools and antique curiosities at every turn. Wherever you look, everything glitters and shimmers with wealth and prosperity. It was the mansion of a high member of the Order of al Ghul. She didn't know exactly what his name was, but the coat of arms that hung on the gate in front of the house spoke for itself. This guy was a big shot in the Empire. And it was definitely something she didn't need. Zakir's voice rang in her head, full of excitement and anticipation, as he suggested that she clean out the house. "Think about it, Raven, this ghoul has never been able to earn it honestly. And so, it turns out that we return the money to the people from whom he took it." in words, it did not sound so bad. Ah of course, what Zakir said was true, but the Coat of arms of the Palace, confused the girl on many more than ostustvie justice to the people. So Rachel sat alone on the roof of the house, frowning at the mansion. The plan Zakir had suggested was seemingly without flaws, and she had no doubt about the guy. They grew up together. He is an orphan like her. They started stealing together, saved each other's Asses together, shared food and endured ridicule, and in General Zakir was like an older brother to her. He has seriously secured that everything will go smoothly and calmly and tomorrow night is the last chance. According to his sources the guy found out that the owner of the estate will leave for the Council of the Order of al Ghul and there will be no one left in the house except the guards. Security changes at night in shifts and there will be a window of time that he and Rachel would have time to slip through and leave unnoticed. A maximum of 10 minutes, but even this is enough to fill the bags with Antiques. Zakir said that everything is thought out to the smallest detail. Raven exhaled heavily. She jumped to her feet and stared at the mansion intently. The girl turned on her heel, pulling her hood up and praying that the darkness of the night would cover them tomorrow. Rachel was going to give Zakir her consent.


	4. Chapter 4

When she regained consciousness, her head ached unbearably and whined, and her body refused to obey. The pictures before my eyes were blurry and indistinct, and every minute they were extinguished in the darkness. Her body ached unbearably, it seemed as heavy and exhausted as never before, and burning lumps of poison gathered under her skin in places where there were bleeding bruises and bruises. She couldn't move her head, she couldn't even open her eyes, she couldn't do anything. Absolutely nothing. Her unhealthy consciousness threw her up and threw her into some kind of terrifying darkness where sounds came only in distant parts, and colors drowned in darkness. While conscious, when she was thrown out of this state for a split second, she felt a flash of pain and distant voices. These voices were clearly not kind and did not try to help her, on the contrary, the cold completely washed over her entire body and fettered fear. Finally, she woke up from delirium. Her head didn't hurt so much that it was already _good_ , although she felt her body like a corpse. A soft, painful moan escaped Raven's lips, so quiet she wasn't sure if she had made it up. The girl did not know how much time had passed. She closed her eyes tightly, her body still not fully owned by her when, after several attempts, she was finally able to open her eyes. A faint, barely perceptible light fell from a single torch on the wall. He then extinguished, then caught fire again, and his flame was fighting the draft. Raven was lying on the cold floor in the very corner of the small room. On all sides it was surrounded by stone walls, only in front there was a thick black lattice. It was definitely an unfamiliar place for her. And Raven didn't really want to meet him. Panic quickly shocked her veins. The girl tried to move and roll over onto her back. The raven put her hands out in front, slowly and uncertainly leaning on them when she felt the palms of flames douche and the skin burned. She fell heavily and the room was filled with the sounds of her plaintive anguish and quiet sobs. Raven stared at her palms in amazement and felt her hands shake and her eyes filled with tears of despair as she saw her right palm cross a huge bleeding cut. She tried to touch the cut, hoping it would rob her of the creepy mind or the remnants of delirium. But her hopes were not justified, and as soon as her finger touched her palm, she felt something sticky and vile on them, and then the skin, cut and terrifying. Raven jerked her hand back as if scalded by boiling water, and her eyes filled with unshed tears of pain. The cramps and burning from the cut were unbearable. The crow barely sat down, hitting its back hard against the masonry, moaning painfully. Blood gushed from the wound, and before Raven could pour it all over the floor, the girl unwound an old rag over her shoulder and bandaged the wound. When she was sure that this was all she could do, Raven tried to examine. She didn't remember anything. Not how she got here, nor anyone who threw her here. She was clearly sure that the bars were locked and she was being held hostage here. And certainly no one will give it a key so easily. Rachel tried to remember how she got here. The confusion in her head mingled with a slowly approaching panic as tiny snippets of memories began rushing into her mind. She remembered how Zahir was shouting something, and then a huge detachment of guards appeared, someone swung at her, Zahir hit him, throwing a knife into her hand and commanding something, and then, then everything was as if in a fog ... Raven grimaced, her head ached again, not being very happy with so much information. She looked around again, trying to find something. But her gaze only bumped into cold stone walls and a lone torch. It was bad. It was all very bad.

*** 

Damian's blade cut the air at the head of his sparing tailor with lightning speed, and he heard him growl pitifully, rebounding, gasping for breath. This would be the third person in the last hour who was unlucky enough to stand up against Demian in a duel and after a minute he was moaning in pain and his training clothes were cut to shreds. Damian, with a light movement, put the blade to the man's throat, ready for the next step and his icy eyes looked lazily at the loser.  
\- My Lord. - the clash of the sword on the armor of Cairo cut the numb silence in the hall as he stood on the threshold of the room with two guards on both sides and bowed respectfully. Damian grunted in annoyance, half-removing the blade from the poor fellow's throat and threw a piercing glance at Cairo.  
\- I hope, Cairo, it's worth it that I interrupted the training. - Demian said coldly, finally putting his sword aside and to him in silence, as if on command three girls ran up. Two threw an emerald robe over his shoulders, while the other served him a glass of wine. Zakir straightened up and approached the master. His voice sounded dry and cold as he spoke in monotone.  
“My Lord, I beg your pardon, but this matter requires your attention. - when the Lord silently nodded to him, Cairo continued. “Last night there was a complete robbery of the House of Advisor Badid and one of the members of this group was caught.  
\- I think you yourself know very well what to do. I see no reason for my attention to this. - Damian's voice boomed harshly, and people next to him involuntarily shivered. But Cairo insisted on its own.  
“I assure you, my Lord, it is worth your attention. - Cairo said conspiratorially, and his eyes seemed to sparkle distantly.

*** 

Raven absentmindedly awoke from a nap when the clang of metal was heard somewhere from the side and heavy footsteps quickly approached her. She frowned, gray fearful shadows fell on her face and panic ran through her body in a torn layer. Something was happening and this sixth sense of hers told her that it was clearly related to her. She convulsively tried to get up, moaning in pain and leaning against the wall and pressing her sore hand to her chest, and in the other tightly clutching a piece of cobblestone and hiding it behind her back. The crow, under the influence of fear and panic, gripped the stone with such force that its uneven edges dug into the skin. It was the only thing that somehow betrayed her confidence. She shivered and was filled with panic at the thought of what these people could do to her when she was so scared and vulnerable. The blood dried on her body was a kind of warning sign of danger for the girl, but whoever these people were, Raven was not going to surrender without a fight. She stumbled back, straightening, determined to act and clutching the stone in her hands as two heavy shadows appeared in front of the cell's bars and Raven swallowed convulsively.

*** 

The raven hit hard, unable to keep herself on her feet, and fell to her knees when she was roughly pushed in the back. It still hurt under the ribs, there was something incomprehensible in her stomach and it seemed to be on the verge. Shine. There was still not enough to vomit. Raven threw a menacing look at the guards, mentally cursing each of them before her eyes stumbled upon the mark on their uniforms that everyone dreaded and her eyes widened with horror of realization. The girl abruptly got up and looked around nervously, examining the room where she was, silently pleading with God that her guesses would not come true. It was a huge, spacious marble hall, the size of any other in her life. Everywhere it was surrounded by columns of black marble, and between them there were stained glass windows. Emerald curtains hung from the ceiling, embroidered with gold thread. In front of her, at the end of the room, on a hill, stood a throne, all in gold, with artfully sculpted details and velvet-emerald trim. Behind the throne were huge windows, from the canvas to the floor and the whole room, in various niches and places there were strange plants of extraordinary beauty. The hall literally breathed high cost and wealth and shouted to everyone in the face about his royal title. Fucking shit. The pieces of the puzzle slowly but surely formed in her head and the whole gravity of the situation fell on her with a strong blow. The palace of Lord al-Ghul. And a few minutes ago, she was in the fucking dungeon of the palace of Lord al-Ghul, from where, according to the stories of the old people, no one has ever returned alive. And Raven wasn't sure she wouldn't be one of those poor fellows. Anxiety, mixed with fear, hammered in my chest, and all the insides seemed to be twisted into a wound inside, expecting an inevitable fate. A minute passed, two, ten, and she was surrounded by the same silence and the languishing tension pressed on her, the thoughts in her head nervously screamed at each other, interrupting her common sense and depriving her of all meaning. Her breathing quickened, and her muscles cramped from more and more incoming waves of fear and panic. She needed to calm down and Raven understood that very well. She was left alone and no one except herself would help the girl, and panic and fear for her would not pave her way to freedom, so the Raven exhaled heavily and mentally urged herself to calm down. She was alone and she knew how to be alone. She always saved herself and here and now this should be no exception. She will be sentenced to death. She was caught red-handed at the crime scene and she could not escape punishment, Raven mentally winced and tried to drive this thought away from herself as far as possible. No, she will be alive and well. She'll figure out how to get out of here. She always did that. The main thing is not to show fear or these yard dogs will devour her with giblets and not choke.

The raven mentally tensed, her lips compressed into a thin strip as the guards, as if on command, all straightened and bowed their heads respectfully. The approaching footsteps of several people echoed in the hall. She fleetingly caught snippets of their conversation, when all voices and sounds as if by unvoiced order died down and Raven felt a burning gaze on the back of her head that seemed to burn every part of her body. There was something wrong ... or rather, something was wrong. She felt nothing but this look. Her lungs were chained by fire, and her heart froze in place, as if it would obey orders. The world would have faded at one moment and mixed into a monochromatic mess, sounds, voices of people left, only this strange feeling of warmth remained. But then she was thrown out of this trance and Raven regained consciousness, breathing heavily and trying to restore blurred vision. Footsteps near her intensified, echoing in the head with drumbeats, but she did not pay attention to this, too confused by this flash. Someone stepped forward and stood directly opposite her. Raven lowered her head to the floor, habitually hiding her face in shadow. The man threw a gaze at her, mixed with something strange, deep inside and his tightly compressed lips did not bode well, but he still remained silent.  
“This is her, my Lord. One of those thieves. " - for a moment Rachel's eyes widened, and her heart stopped when she heard the word "Lord" as if the first. Lord al - Ghul stood opposite her, carefully examining and only the playing veins on his icy face expressed emotions. The girl felt a strange thrill in the very center of her chest. His icy gaze slid over her, but for Raven he was not so cold, she felt more than felt something tender in it, enveloping and soothing, but immediately, embarrassed by herself, stopped. She should feel fear, panic, and at least in extreme cases aggression, but not as warmth and calmness emanating from his stoic figure of the Lord, recognized as a tough tyrants and dictator.  
_You haven't even seen his face, Raven! Wake up, you're half way to your grave, you idiot._  
\- "What's your name?" - unexpectedly for all those present, asked the Lord and his suppressive tone cut off all questions. After a pause, thinking tensely to say her real name or nickname, Raven answered dryly, praying that her voice would not falter. No, her real name has always been something sacred to her, which gave her a certain self-confidence, knowing that it would not be pronounced by anyone except a person close to her.  
\- "Raven." The lord frowned.  
\- "I asked about your real names, not about the name of the yard." - the man's eyes flashed warningly in her direction and although Raven did not see it, she felt a dumb threat hanging between them in the air, as a warning sign in case of her disobedience. In a place of fear, she experienced irritation, a strange feeling mixed with a share of protest, against his decree. Yes, she wanted to spit on the fact that he was a fucking Lord and the fact that her fate is now in his hands and depends on her unquestioning obedience, she will not tell him a damn thing.  
\- "Then, you will have to confine yourself to the "courtyard nickname", Your Majesty." - threw Raven, proud of herself and not regretting a single spoken word. A short, almost imperceptible wave of whispers passed through the hall, and Raven caught the movement somewhere behind her. Fast, firm steps were rapidly approaching her and did not bode well for the girl, and she shrank, ready to strike in retaliation for her insolence.  
“Don't you dare, Cairo." - blow, which did not follow. The man froze literally a step away from her, nailed to the spot by the Lord's short command. Raven blinked in bewilderment, too stunned by these words to avoid being hit. Confusion filled her and she was grateful that her lowered face was not possible to see. But then, like a bolt from the blue, another command of the Lord sounded, now addressed to her.  
"Show me you face." - Raven immediately reacted to this, demonstratively pulling her naked and the man, whom she understood to be called Cairo, again wanted to teach her a lesson in politeness, but the Lord's hand blocked his way. The man bent over a little, grabbed her chin sharply, seemingly being in a kind of impatience and pulled her upward, opening a view of the girl's face and freezing, but his stupor did not last long, the Lord seemed to be preparing himself for a long time for something remote and understandable only him. His bewilderment, growing brightly on his face, faded as quickly as it appeared. The lord, slowly, as if regaining control and forcing himself, removed his hand, with a short gesture weightlessly passed the back of his hand along the line of her chin, as he immediately fell into place, his icy, soul-chilling gaze returned to its place and he straightened up, his posture again became straight and royal and proud, and the Lord, turning on his heels, without turning around and without throwing a glance, went to the exit. All that he said before he disappeared behind the massive doors was one pitiful proposal:  
"Her custody."


End file.
